


Escape Within The Grains

by Lunarium



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drug Use, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8429299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: After their father's death, Curufin finds means of escape and filling the void left behind.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uumuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/gifts).



“Curvo…you did not have to hurt yourself in your grief.” 

The melodic voice spoke without any judgment or accusation, just the pain shared in having lost the same father. Adept fingers clasped the tiny bag of white powder from Curufin’s fingers, gently prying it free from his loosening grip. 

“Father would not have wanted this. And I do not wish to see you suffer, dear brother.” 

The escape within the grains had been bliss and blessing, but as their effects had dwindled, there remained a greater need for the substance. Curufin had not anticipated the profound effect it would have on him, but he supposed the drug had some sort of sentient thought, seeking to fill a void within him. 

“You know I never regret anything I do, no matter if it be a foolish mistake or not,” Curufin said, fighting off the fog that was starting to form as the recent dosage was starting to take effect. Maglor’s scent came to his nostrils more strongly than ever, enticing him, enflaming desires previously unaware. Swallowing, he willed himself to keep breathing deeply, keep himself rooted to the present. 

“Father would understand,” he continued. “We were very close. Linked by our minds, you could say. Something needs to fill that empty space left in his wake.” 

“But you have not been eating,” Maglor said. “Out of everyone, I grow most worried about you, dearest one.” 

Curufin watched as one of Maglor’s long, thin fingers absent-mindedly flicked a corner of the bag, flaring up his need. His mind flared with thought of those fingers on his bare skin, his brother’s beautiful voice singing his name in blessed pleasure and ecstasy. 

“I have no appetite, for it appears I hunger for something else,” Curufin said softly. Then gripping Maglor’s chin, he pulled him in, crushing their lips together, and sighing with the taste of his brother on his lips as his hands roamed Maglor’s back and shoulders. But all too soon, Maglor pushed him back. 

“You are bound to another, as I am,” Maglor said. 

“But our bond in blood is deeper,” Curufin insisted, gripping his arms. And I am suffering. Will you not indulge me in this mourning, brother?” 

The hesitation passed Maglor’s face a few moments later as he relaxed, allowing Curufin to move in, though tears did dribble down his cheeks which Curufin captured with tender kisses. 

He lay him down and claimed him, tenderly and releasing his anguish for his brother to share in, and Maglor took it, holding him with all the comfort as the night they lost their father, though he also wept for reasons Curufin did not ask. 

By next morning he woke with a mild headache. Maglor sat a little away playing his harp, a sad song on his lips. Thinking of the previous night, Curufin dreaded to see him once more before realizing: Maglor could have left the tent if he had so wished. 

“I do not despise you,” came Maglor’s voice as if he could read his mind. “You make mistakes, but you are still my brother.” 

Taking a slow breath to steady his nerves, Curufin sat up and faced him.


End file.
